


Never Been in Love

by Q_Q (Bo0Radley)



Category: (여자)아이들 | (G)I-DLE
Genre: Drama, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, POV Jeon Soyeon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 05:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30016659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bo0Radley/pseuds/Q_Q
Summary: "You've been in love once," Soojin confirmed—so nonchalantly as she casually picked up her coffee before sipping calmly—when I asked one day, curious, if she's ever seen me fall in love. "She just wasn't meant for you, I guess.""But..." I trailed off, confused. "Who?"
Relationships: Cho Miyeon/Yeh Shuhua, Jeon Soyeon/Song Yuqi, Seo Soojin/Minnie Nicha Yontararak
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Never Been in Love

I've always thought that I've never been in love.

Isn't love just something you write about? Just creative words transporting the readers into a fictional land; making them think—or even hope—that there exists a person whose words are as romantic or as passionate as the ones they've wholeheartedly consumed?

Isn't it?

Isn't love just something you sing about? Just a symphony of arranged melodies accompanied by poetry, lulling the listeners into daydreaming about their hearts being captured by this special yet still-unknown one?

Isn't it?

Isn't love just something you draw about? Just complicated shapes in varied size and colors; creating beautiful imagery and enrapturing the fascinated audience into imagining that someone—someone as beautiful as an art—is out there waiting for them?

Isn't it?

I've always thought that I've never been in love; not because I deem it an impossibility but the concept seems too alien to my limited, almost narrow perspective.

Love, for me, is akin to an optical illusion: like the Penrose stairwell or even M.C. Escher's irrational cube. I _do_ acknowledge that the concept exists but whenever I try to fully grasp it—be it through writing, singing, drawing, or even through experiencing it, all I see is a confusing mess of impossible imagery.

So is _that_ what love is? Just an impossibility?

"You've been in love once," Soojin confirmed—so nonchalantly as she casually picked up her coffee before sipping calmly—when I asked one day, curious, if she's ever seen me fall in love. "She just wasn't meant for you, I guess."

"But..." I trailed off, confused. "Who?"

Soojin, as always, just shrugged—always so unconcerned and always so nonchalant—before putting down her cup with a soft thud. "That girl? The one you won't shut up about for ages after you met her?"

"There are lots of girls," I said simply, my tone still carrying confusion and, admittedly, a little curiosity. Because for someone who thinks that they've never been in love, I've already committed myself to a few relationships here and there.

But all I understood from my past relationships is that I'm apparently difficult to be in a relationship with.

"Which one of them?" I asked again, my eyebrows now furrowed and my head full of thoughts:

Did I miss something with one of my exes? Did I make a mistake in letting one of them go? Who was it exactly?

"The one who actually mattered to you. And still matters to you, I guess," Soojin answered after a few minutes, her ordinarily soft eyes becoming sharper. "The one who stayed with you even though you kept disappearing on her for months, even _years_ at a time. Remember?"

I stared blankly at my friend—idly noticing the lazily raised eyebrow—for a full minute before the proverbial light bulb lit up in my head as one name popped up:

Song Yuqi.

"But we were never a couple, Soojin."

Soojin shrugged before slumping back on her chair while crossing her arms on her chest. "And whose fault was that?"

Instead of answering her obviously rhetorical question, I let my mind wander.

Song Yuqi is an unusual but interesting contradiction: she's a snob yet very sociable, she's an elitist yet also down-to-earth, and she's very judgmental yet very open-minded at the same time.

She's the most interesting person I've ever met in my entire life and she's a very, _very_ dear friend of mine.

But just a friend.

"Was I really in love with her?" I distractedly asked after a few more minutes of contemplation, my eyes still glazed over as thoughts after thoughts kept coming into my head—like a waterfall streaming down a massive, turbulent river.

I was too busy thinking that I didn't notice her knowing smirk. "Was?"

And with that one, simple word, I snapped out of my inner thoughts and whipped my head up to look at my friend. I noticed the quirked eyebrow and the smirk but I ignored it, feeling the waterfall gradually becoming a geyser—with one word bursting high above my consciousness.

And its implication.

Soojin, still with a raised eyebrow, shrugged nonchalantly again. "Don't always overthink things, Soyeon."

"But thinking is all I know," I stubbornly stated, my tone hinting impatience as the geyser kept bursting and bursting.

"I know." She then uncrossed her arms and moved her body forward. She looked into my eyes directly, as if conversing with my inner thoughts and convincing the words to stop flailing around in panic. "But you have to _feel_ for a change. Rationality isn't everything."

I furrowed my eyebrows and felt my lips tightening in a thin line, my mind now a picture of a destructive storm in the middle of the ocean. "I disagree."

"Really?" Soojin chuckled lightly. "You out of all people should know that emotions are inherently irrational."

"But emotions don't _just_ spring out of nowhere," I insisted, feeling and hearing my frustrated voice getting louder. "There _has_ to be a reason. A cause. Something to trigger it."

"Or someone." She then straightened her body before picking up her cup. She took a leisure sip, humming, before putting the cup back down with an audible thud. "Like I said, don't always overthink things."

* * *

Song Yuqi.

I snapped from my inner thoughts and immediately stopped when I saw the traffic light in front of me turn red. I then watched the passing cars, one foot unconsciously tapping away both in impatience and the rhythmic beat from my headphone.

When the traffic light finally turned green, my feet moved again, each step deliberate but automatic. And when I finally crossed safely to the other side of the street, I finally let my mind drift aimlessly again as my feet turned left and right and around, already familiar with the route.

Song Yuqi has all the traits you wouldn't associate with the conventions of being a nice person: she's snarky, she's petty, and she's terribly ill-tempered.

But at the same time, she's also highly empathic and very sensitive to the needs of others around her, _especially_ to those she cares about.

Like me.

At times when I feel like I'm all alone in my head, she'll always come crashing through my walls, her bright light illuminating all the dark crevices of my mind. At times when I can't smile or laugh anymore, my chest hollow and void, she'll smile brighter and laugh harder for me.

Just for me.

"Everything will be fine," she would always say while taking my hand, laughing and smiling. Sometimes she'll even say it over and over again, reassuring me how she believes in me.

Even at times when I lose faith in myself, she'll still believe in me.

I sighed as the memories—crystal clear sounds of laughter and vivid images of a familiar, pretty girl—started resurfacing. And while walking around the corner in one street, I was idly reminded of how long it has been since the last time I saw her.

Weeks? Months? _Years_?

 _It's been a month since I last heard from her_ , I mused before feeling a familiar buzzing in my pocket. Curious, I turned right and left, searching for a semi-secluded spot. And when I finally found one, I hurriedly marched towards it while fishing my phone from my pocket.

Bathed by the colorful lights of the convenience store behind me, I stared at the screen for a few seconds, confused. But when the slight buzzing in my hand continues to persist, I just sighed—removing the headphone from my head while unplugging the wire out of habit—before answering.

"Yeah?"

"Soy!" the other lined hissed, a hint of panic in their tone. I heard hushed clinking and clattering, followed by a soft _thump_ before the background noises quieted down. "I need you here!"

"Why?"

While I half-listen to Miyeon prattling on, her voice oddly magnified, my eyes started to wander a bit as I idly watch a few people walking by: I saw a man, drunk but otherwise behaving well, being carried off by another man; I saw an old lady, one hand carrying a small plastic bag while the other hand is clutching the arm of a young teenager who was carrying a bigger plastic bag on his free hand; and I saw a girl—a very pretty girl—who has an equally pretty dog on a leash.

"...so yeah I'm about to propose to Shuhua now."

Hearing the last words, I raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. "You are?" I asked, my head slightly tilted on one side while my eyes continued to follow the pretty girl and the pretty dog. "When?"

I heard a sigh on the other line. "You don't really pay attention, do you?" I heard rustling of what seems like fabrics before hearing a loud sound of what seems like a toilet being flushed.

I rolled my eyes in amusement as I tried to focus on her words. "Again, Minnie helped me pick out the ring last week. Again, Shuhua and I are at a restaurant right now for a date. _Again_ , I'm about to propose to Shuhua. Right here, right now."

"But why would you want me there?" The girl—the owner of the dog—glanced my way, her neat ponytail swishing slightly at the movement. I gave her a small, friendly smile and she smiled back. I also noticed the slight blush on her cheeks and I smiled a bit wider, familiar at the sight. "Shouldn't this just be between you two?"

"For moral support, you dense hermit," Miyeon huffed frustratedly on the other line before sighing again. I heard a creak before the sound of clinking and clattering came back again. "Please, Soyeon?" she whispered, her voice now softer and, in my honest opinion, whinier.

"Fine." The pretty girl started walking my way, the pretty dog strutting eagerly by her side. "Let me finish up and I'll be there in a few," I said before ending the call and calmly putting back my phone in my pocket.

"Hi," the pretty girl greeted with a smile as she shyly tucked a non-existent strand of hair behind one ear—a familiar sight to me by now. "I noticed you staring," she said—almost cooed—playfully.

"I am," I replied with my own playful smile before casually pointing at the Shiba Inu. "Pretty dog."

"Thanks."

The next words—“but even prettier owner”—is at the tip of my tongue, waiting to be uttered with an automatic precision that I've long since known works. But a sudden flash of memory—crystal clear sounds of laughter and vivid images of a familiar, pretty girl—started resurfacing again and I paused.

"You're welcome," I just mumbled before walking away and never looking back.

* * *

Song Yu-

_Snap!_

I visibly jumped at the sudden sound. "What? What do I need to do?" I immediately asked, my head whipping right and left, before staring confusedly at the hand in front of me.

"Nothing," she sing-songed playfully, her eyes crinkled with a smile as she withdrew her hand. "We've actually finished early and you're amazing as always."

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused, as I watched Minnie gracefully stand from her piano stool, one hand clutching a sheet of filled manuscript papers. "Then why snap your fingers at my face?"

"Oh, that?" Minnie gently closed the piano lid, chuckling slightly. "Soojin told me to do that whenever you're zoning out. I just tried it to see if it actually works."

 _Why am I not surprised_ , I thought with a sigh. "You don't always have to do what your girlfriend tells you to do, unnie."

"I know," she replied with a shrug, one hand picking up the shoulder bag on the floor. "But she's so smart about these things so I choose to listen to her," she patiently explained, both hands carefully gathering her long, red hair before tying it in a loose ponytail.

I scoffed softly. "Fair enough," I grumbled under my breath as I bent down to pick my own bag. "I don't agree but it's your relationship."

"Speaking of relationships..." she trailed off in a sing-songy tone as she hurried her steps to catch up with mine. "When are you getting a girlfriend again? It's been a while for you, hasn't it?"

I sighed before stepping outside of the piano room and into the familiar hallway. "You're making it sound like I'm always in a relationship. I've only had three."

"Yes, but girls always flock to you," she countered, now by my side, as we both walked towards the hallway and into the exit—marked by a towering, stone archway—of the music department. "Must be the way you constantly disappear without any warning. So mysterious. So _enticing_."

"Ha ha, very funny." I playfully rolled my eyes before skipping downwards at the stairs. "And they flock to me because they think I'm pretty and talented-"

"So humble."

"-but they never tried to look any further than that." I jumped at the final steps, deliberately ignoring the change in Minnie's expression as she looked my way. "So we're done here, unnie?" I asked, turning to look towards her, a small smile playing on my lips.

She sighed before pointing a hand—the one still clutching the manuscript papers—at me. "There's someone out there for you, you know." She stepped closer to me and, before I knew it, she gave me a loose hug—her head too close to my shoulder that I could smell the fragrance of her shampoo.

Strawberry? Pomegranate? Peach? I don't pay attention to such mundane things but the familiar smell always gives me comfort.

Minnie always gives me comfort—even at times when I'm not asking for it nor am I craving for it.

Like right now.

"There's someone out there for _everyone_ ," she added, one hand tapping my back in a comforting manner. "It's only a matter of time."

"So they say," I mumbled—mostly to myself—before sighing in relief when she finally let me go. "Gotta go. Later, unnie."

With a wave of hand and a promise of hanging out again soon, I finally walked away. I passed by several university students—who gave me a wave and a smile when they recognized me—before stopping on a nearby tree.

While my eyes wandered around, always watching but never seeing, I blindly rummaged through my bag before taking out my headphones. I then took out my phone from my pocket and plugged the wire in—an unnecessary thing that Soojin has mocked in the past but, ever since dating Minnie, not anymore.

Because musicians will always prefer wired to wireless.

Now focused, I swiped through my neatly arranged playlists and hummed, trying to decide what to listen on my way home:

Techno? Moombahton? Ballad? Acoustic? _Trot_?

After deciding on a playlist filled with my favorite anime OST, I put my headphones on my before pressing play. Now comforted with the familiar, I started walking again—my sneakers bouncing on the green grass and the concrete pavement—towards the main exit of the university, my feet on autopilot and my head on clouds.

Song Yuqi is like a forest fire: hard to contain and hard to extinguish; slowly but surely consuming anything and everything on its destructive path.

I skipped on a puddle, absentmindedly wondering if it rained earlier, before walking normally again, my head filled with my thoughts and words and images of a familiar face.

But, at the same time, she's also warm: like that subtle hint of heat from the embers inside a hearth, enticing you closer to envelope you in its comforting embrace.

 _Or like the early morning sun_ , I mused as I looked upward, the exposed part of my face—the part not covered by my mask—getting hit by the gentle warmth of the waking sun.

After a few minutes more of walking, with a few skipping here and there to avoid the puddles, I felt the familiar buzzing in my pocket.

 _I see u_ 👀   
**Yuqi**  
(7:16 a.m)

I almost crashed into another person when I read the unexpected message. I then whip my head left and right, searching for that familiar face among the crowd of joggers and early workers, but seeing nothing.

"Huh?" I said out loud, confused, before turning my attention back to my phone and hurriedly typing a reply:

 _Stalker much??_  
 **Me**  
(7:20 a.m.)

I looked around again, both thumbs still on the screen, but still seeing nothing.

 _Dont be a creep lmao_  
 **Me**  
(7:21 a.m.)

I turned my body left and right, my focused eyes now scrutinizing the faces of each person passing through, but still not seeing that familiar face.

Then my phone buzzed again:

 _And ur still tiny hahaha_  
 _Nice bear pants btw_ 🤣  
 **Yuqi**  
(7:24 a.m.)

Now annoyed, not at the quip but at not seeing, I looked around one last time. I huffed, thoroughly frustrated, before turning my attention back to my phone.

But before I could type a reply, the phone buzzed again and another message came through:

 _UR LEFT_  
 _Across d street_  
 _Stupid_ 😒  
 **Yuqi**  
(7:28 a.m.)

I looked to my left and saw a familiar café—that I've only ever been once years ago—on the other side of the street. I walked closer, my eyes squinted and my brows furrowed, and saw a vague but familiar short hair accompanied by that familiar, mocking smirk:

Song Yuqi.

My phone buzzed again with another message:

Come over shorty  
 **Yuqi**  
(7:28 a.m.)

So I did. I ran towards the café—my heart beating abnormally fast—and quickly opened the door, the welcoming and familiar scent of roasted beans greeting me like an old friend.

"Why are you here?" I asked as I removed my headphones, panting slightly.

She raised an eyebrow before her lips curled in that familiar smirk. "Why are _you_ here?"

Slightly panting, I pointed an accusing—but playful—finger at her. "You just told me to come over. I could've gone home by now."

And she laughed that familiar laugh before pointing her pen towards the opposite leather seat. "Just sit over there, shorty."

Huffing a little, I sat down, noticing the papers and books strewn haphazardly atop the wooden table. "Your table is a mess."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm _studying_. I deserve to be messy this time." She then clicked her pen with a flourish before going back to her notes, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration while her lips moved with inaudible murmuring.

While she reads her notes, I quietly looked around, getting hit by nostalgia at the familiar place: the antique clock on the far corner where Yuqi explained is something that is worth a _lot_ but it's too heavy to steal so it's not worth; the glass shelf against a brick wall that's full of ceramic trinkets that Yuqi once said is something _so_ easy to recreate; and the authentic mahogany counter on the left, which Yuqi said is most likely a product of illegal logging from a developing country.

Everywhere I look, all I see is Yuqi. And when my eyes finally came back to her, I saw her looking back at me with an odd smile on her face.

"Why are you out in broad daylight?" she asked with a chuckle, her body slumping backward towards the padded leather seat, both hands balancing the heavy-looking book on her lap.

I shrugged. "Morning class."

"I thought vampires only come out at night," she joked, her tone full of mirth and her lips on the edge of laughter. And before I could retort, she then asked, "also where's your girlfriend?"

"We broke up a few months ago," I answered, confused at the question, before the proverbial lightbulb in my head lit up. "Didn't I tell you that?"

"Maybe?" She then reached out for a book atop the table and put it on her lap, clicking her pen at the same time. "You talk about a lot of girls so it's hard to keep track sometimes," she mumbled audibly, her head down and her finger tracing the words on the book.

"Can't argue with that," I muttered with a shrug. "And where's your boyfriend?"

"Work," she simply answered, not looking up.

The tick tock of the grandfather clock and hushed conversations of the other patrons filled the comfortable silence that came over. I looked around once again, starting to get bored, before fishing my phone from my pocket.

"Seems Shuhua and Miyeon-unnie finally got engaged." I looked up from my phone and saw her looking at me again, her head tilted slightly.

"How do you know that?"

Shaking her head a little, she reached forward and picked up the phone atop the wooden table—that I didn't notice—and showed the phone screen to me. "Instagram."

"Ah. Right."

She then chuckled before putting down her phone. "You need to pay more attention to things outside your own head, Soyeon."

I shrugged before absentmindedly reaching out to a loose paper on the table. "No need." I stared at it and saw it filled with complicated words and medical jargons that I don't—and won't bother to—understand. "I was there."

"I know." Surprised, I looked up and stared at her quirked eyebrow. "Instagram, Soyeon," she said—almost sighed—before going back to her book. "So how was it?"

I sighed and winced a little, remembering the events with unwanted clarity. "It was fine, I guess. Miyeon got down on one knee and Shuhua screeched loudly when she accepted the ring. So basically nothing new."

"Good for them." She blindly reached out for a blank paper and put it atop her open book. "And good for Miyeon."

I chuckled. "Just Miyeon?"

I saw her quickly scribble something on the paper, a finger still tracing the book. "Miyeon is never afraid to go after what she wants. And who she wants." I saw her look up from her book, focused eyes scrutinizing the table, before reaching out for a red notebook. "If she wasn't so persistent, Shuhua would've never said yes to be her girlfriend in the first place."

"And now they're getting married," she added as she closed the notebook before haphazardly flinging it on the table. "So good for Miyeon."

"I see. I never thought of it that way." Curious, I reached out for the red notebook. I read the complicated words—that's starting to be more familiar in my eyes—before casually asking, "so when is your turn?"

"My turn for what?"

"Marriage."

_Thud!_

I jumped, startled, when she suddenly and loudly closed the book—a quite heavy book that must've weight at least a ton. Eyes wide, I looked her way and saw the intensity in her eyes and the thin line that's now her lips.

"I just remembered that I have some place I need to be," she stated, tone monotonous and expression odd, before rushing to pick up her notebooks and her papers atop the wooden table. "And I don't want to be late."

Confused at the subtle way her jaw clench and unclench, I gave a small nod in reply. "Sure," I mumbled, staring at the way she hastily and messily put everything on her backpack, not even bothering to stack the loose papers together.

And when she's done, she stood up and carelessly slung her backpack on one shoulder. "Bye, Soyeon," she simply said, her tone passive and—despite her lips curling in a small smile—her expression still odd.

"Bye, Yuqi."

As I watched her retreating back and hear the soft _ding_ of the door chime, I was left wondering if something went wrong.

Song Yuqi is straightforward but with a twist: she doesn't tell things the way it is but how she perceives it is or _should_ be.

But there are times when she says nothing at all: she lets her actions speak for her and, if you're not versed in its language, it can feel confusing at times.

And right now? I am very, _very_ confused.

Sighing a bit, I looked around the café and saw Yuqi everywhere again—nostalgia hitting me once more in ways I couldn't understand.

* * *

Song Yuqi.

I sighed heavily before jumping on my bed, the mattress creaking slightly at the sudden, bouncing weight. I stared blankly at my ceiling and counted the posters I put there—something Soojin has always wondered because she _wrongly_ assumes that posters can't be put up in the ceiling—before sighing again, the gears in mind working tirelessly as I kept thinking about my decision.

Song Yuqi is complicated: an almost impossible puzzle with a difficulty level even trained minds can't fully solve. And if you add all the unsavory traits, she is everything you won't want to be as a girlfriend.

After a half hour of quiet contemplation, I sat back. Still unsure, I reached out for my phone on the bedside table. And with my bottom lip between my teeth, I started typing:

_Can we talk?_  
 **Me**  
(9:15 p.m.)

I stared blankly at my closet, almost unblinking, as the dread started creeping in. But before I could change my mind, I felt the familiar buzzing in my hand.

_Sure_  
 **Yuqi**  
(9:23 p.m.)

_Just a sec_  
 **Yuqi**  
(9:24 p.m.)

And a few seconds later, my phone started buzzing again and I saw Yuqi's pretty face covering the whole screen. Still unsure of my decision, I took a deep breath before accepting the call.

"What's up?"

I opened my mouth to reply but no words came out. Sighing again, I let my mind work for a while in search of the right words. "It's about this girl."

I heard a soft sigh on the other line and ruffling of fabrics. "It's always about a girl," she muttered and I heard the soft stomping of feet before it stopped. "What is it about this time?"

Song Yuqi is impatient. But when it comes to me, she always listens and waits for me to talk—to _actually_ talk: the kind where I stutter and ramble and make mistakes when I couldn't think of the right words to say.

The kind that, outside of my friends, no one could ever quite understand.

"She confuses me."

I heard her chuckle. "What _doesn't_ confuse you?" she joked, her tone soft and doesn't hint at any real mockery. "Tell me what happened."

Song Yuqi is complicated. But beneath the surface of her puzzling personality lies the simplicity of a gentle, patient heart. And Soojin said that I was in love with this fascinating contradiction.

No, she implied that I'm _still_ in love with her.

Was I? Am I?

"She's..." I trailed off, so many words and thoughts swimming around my head. "Annoying."

"Annoying," she deadpanned before giggling, on the verge of laughter. "So why do you even like he-"

"She's also a snob," I added, almost impatiently, my mouth racing with my own thoughts on who would want to be heard first. "An elitist. And she's really, _really_ judgmental. She's everything you won't want to be as a girlfriend."

"...okay? So why do you li-"

"She's also snarky." All the words that wanted to come out—unorganized and messy—started pouring out. "She's petty. A hothead. She has all the traits you wouldn't think about when you think about a caring person."

"I'm really confused right now, Soyeon."

"But she cares about me," I finally said with a wistful tone, softly and almost inaudibly. "She's always there when I'm sad. She's always there to make me smile. She's always there to make me laugh."

"And I love her." I took a deep breath as I felt my chest tightening with things I don't want to feel. Refuses to feel. "And I've been in love with her all these years and I never realized it."

"No," I said with a chuckle, struggling to finish my unorganized words—my _real_ words—before my rational senses overcome me again. "I think I've already realized it a long time ago but I was just too afraid of what it means."

"So I chose the easy way out," I finally admitted out loud, to her and to myself. "I always choose the easy way out because it's so, _so_ scary to feel and she made me feel so much." I sighed, the tightening in my chest now a welcomed discomfort in exchange for my own truth. "Still making me feel so much, to be honest."

And when all words are poured out of my head, jumbled and messy, I feel… relieved.

I almost smiled, relishing how I finally stopped organizing and rearranging my words—hiding the truth beneath the veneer of logic and rationale—and just let it all out.

And just let myself feel.

"She seems interesting," I heard her say after a few minutes of complete silence.

"She is," I agreed with a smile on my face, imagining the girl I'm talking to—the girl I'm in love with—right in front of me. "She's the most interesting person I've ever met."

I heard a humming on the other line. "And does she feel the same way?"

I frowned, feeling the dread start creeping in again. "I'm not sure."

She hummed again. "Is she taken?" And before I can answer, she added, "because for some reason even girls in a committed relationship fall for you."

I sighed, feeling the dread taking over. "She's taken," I mumbled.

"Then don't be a fool," she snapped, her tone harsh with a hint of something I can't discern. "Don't wait for someone who can't commit to you. You can do better than that." She sighed again before adding softly, "you're better than that."

"I know," I mumbled, the dread now consuming me. "I know that."

I heard another sigh. "I have to go now. I have a thesis presentation tomorrow."

"Goodluck." And when she ended the call, I jumped on my bed again, my chest tightening for a whole different reason.

Song Yuqi is honest. Brutally honest, in fact. And if your heart is a little weaker, you will feel the brunt of her scathing remarks and her harsh truth—like a rushing, incoming train with a broken brake.

And as I lay there, staring blankly at the posters on my ceilings and idly wondering if I should add another, I replayed the conversation in my head over and over again.

Then I chuckled, dejected but amused, at the irony of how Song Yuqi unknowingly rejected my still-unsaid confession.

* * *

Song-

_Riiinnnggg…_

"Yuqi?" I finally answered when I realized that it wasn't my alarm. "It's too early," I whined, my voice scratchy and my head groggy, before glancing at my clock that says 7 o'clock.

In the morning.

"I failed my thesis presentation," the voice on the other line said as-a-matter-of-factly, not even apologizing for waking me up so early on a weekend. "It was hilarious, by the way."

"What?" Genuinely surprised, I almost rolled away from my bed when I suddenly turned to my side, frowning a bit at the giggling on the other side of the line—either caused by my surprised yelp or by Yuqi's own topsy-turvy mood. "But aren't you a top student?"

The giggling subsided with a soft sigh before she hummed. "When it was my turn to present I can't even talk," she started, wisely ignoring my rhetorical question. "So I kinda just laughed and made a fool out of myself before making some lame excuse about being nervous."

I let the gravity pull my body back down when I lazily turned around, groaning a bit at the (minimal) exertion and my own drowsiness. "That's a really lame excuse. Everyone knows you don't get nervous."

I heard a mock gasp followed by an playful scoff. "I know," she whispered conspiratorially before giggling a bit manically. "But at least they bought it."

I nodded an unseen nod. "So you didn't flunk?" I asked, my eyelids getting heavier and heavier by the minute.

"Not yet. They gave me a second chance," she stated plainly. "Perks of being a top student, I guess," she added and I can almost imagine the unconcerned shrug that accompanies it.

"That's good," I said with a yawn, my eyes now fully closed and my hand just barely holding up my phone. "But be professional next time. You don't need more validation of how crazy you are." I yawned again before whispering, "you already have me."

Eyes closed, my mind started drifting off to slumber when a sudden loud noise startled me awake.

"Did you just sleep on me?!"

"Nope," I lied as soon as I managed to put my phone back on one ear. "Just resting my eyes."

"For _ten_ minutes, Soyeon? Really?"

"Huh?" I glanced at the clock to see for myself. "I didn't notice. Sorry."

I heard a huff followed by some muttering that I couldn't hear—but I assumed that it's a bunch of petulant, indignant words strung together aimed at me. "Are you doing something right now?" she then asked, her tone both patient and impatient.

I sat down and rubbed my eyes before humming. "I'll probably watch some anime," I replied distractedly.

"Weeb." I just rolled my eyes when she followed her word with a giggle, too sleepy to come up with a clever retort. "I'm here at the café. Come over."

"Right now?"

"Yes," she demanded, her tone expectant but final. "And it's your treat, by the way. It's the least you could do."

I yawned again before stretching my back with a sigh. "For what?"

"For making me fail my presentation." And before I could ask, she ended the call.

Song Yuqi is confusing. There are times when she says one thing while meaning another—a trait that I still couldn't get used to despite knowing her for a while now.

But it doesn't bother me much since she eventually tells me anyway—a trait I appreciate, fully aware that I'm one of her exceptions. So just like with most things that I don't and can't understand, I just let it pass without any second thought.

* * *

Song Yuqi.

"What took you so long?"

She's demanding and always wants things done her way; her perspective structured in a way that, if you trace all the pathways of her blueprint, you'll realize that all roads will eventually lead to her.

I sighed before padding towards the table. "I had to take a shower like a normal human being," I deadpanned before taking a seat opposite of her, the familiar smell of coffee waking me up more than the cold shower I forced myself to take.

"But you're not normal," she jested with a giggle before looking towards the counter. "Please buy me coffee."

I squinted my eyes at her. "You're really going to make me pay for it?"

"I already said 'please'," she reasoned with a pout and a small whine while petulantly crossing her arms. "Don't make me say it again."

I sighed. "Fine," I mumbled before standing up and padding towards the counter. After a few exchanges of words with the server manning the counter, I came back with our order.

"Are you okay?" I asked after a few minutes, curious at the way her eyebrows knit and the way her bottom lip is between her teeth. "You look weird," I joked with a chuckle as I put the cup of coffee in front of her before taking my seat.

Instead of answering, she reached out for her cup and took a sip, her eyes unusually unfocused. And the cup remained on her hand as she kept still for a few more seconds, her odd expression unchanging, before putting the cup down with a rather loud thud.

"How long was the longest time you've ignored me?"

Song Yuqi is temperamental: her ever-changing emotions akin to a rollercoaster ride. And if you're the kind who gets scared of rides, you'll probably find it nerve-racking and, to an extent, even troublesome.

"Huh?"

The intensity of her eyes is nothing new in my eyes but the intensity of her confusing question is odd in my ears. "You heard me, Soyeon. How long was it?"

I tilted my head on one side as I looked back and counted the days. The weeks. The months. The years. "Two years, I guess?"

"Two years," she repeated with a chuckle and a shake of her head. "And what was the first thing you said to me when you _finally_ decided to talk to me again?"

"...that I just broke up with my girlfriend?"

She shook her head again before laughing, her shoulder slightly moving up and down. And I stared, confused, at the disingenuous way her laughter is disconnected from the harsh expression on her face. "Do you remember our last conversation before you disappeared for two years?"

"I don't remem-"

"I asked you to come here," she immediately cut off, her laughter now gone and her tone as cold as her expression. "I made some dumb excuse about a book that I needed to borrow from you." She then chuckled darkly while shaking her head again. "Can't even remember what book that was anymore," she muttered but loud enough for me to hear.

"And when you _didn't_ reply, I tried asking you out on a date before remembering that you're still in a relationship at the time with someone you met _after_ you met me," she continued. "So I came up with _another_ dumb excuse just to see you."

"But no reply. My messages unseen. For _months_."

"And then for some stupid reason I broke up with my boyfriend," she added, the icy tone getting heated with emotions I can't comprehend but can definitely see. "And do you know what stupid reason that was?" And when I wordlessly shook my head, she added, "it's because I _still_ can't get over you."

"When I came to my senses months later, I got back together with him. And we're still together a year after that because unlike _you_ , he doesn't go anywhere."

"So why, Soyeon? _Why_?" she asked, her tone not pleading but _demanding_. "After all these years, why are you telling all these things to me now? What's the point?"

I opened my mouth before closing it again, unsure and shocked at the barrage of words. I wanted to say something— _anything_ —but my mind is both blank and overflowing with thoughts.

"The point of what?" I asked instead, wincing internally at how tone deaf my question sounds even to my own ears.

"Stop playing dumb, Soyeon," she snapped as she uncrossed her arms before reaching for her cup. "You know what I'm talking about."

And I do. "Is this about last night?"

"Obviously."

"So you thought that was you?" I winced, visibly this time, at all the wrong words coming out of my mouth.

She scoffed. "You were too specific with your compliments that it's easy enough to figure out," she deadpanned before taking a sip, her lips thin line behind her cup.

Song Yuqi is smart: she has this innate ability to figure out what is and isn't—even at times when I couldn't figure it out on my own.

My fingers started thrumming atop the table, anxious. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, my mind too overwhelmed with thoughts and words and memories to say anything more.

The tick tock of the grandfather clock and hushed conversations of the other patrons filled the tense silence that came over. Anxious, my fingers continue thrumming atop the wooden table, the metaphorical gears overheating as my mind searches for the right words to say.

Any words.

"I loved you, you know," she said with her eyes closed, a tired sigh heard behind her cup. "And _maybe_ I still love you but you hurt me."

"But I told myself it's okay since it's not your fault. That you just didn't feel the same way. That I'm the dumb one for loving someone who doesn't love me back."

"But now?" She shook her head again for what seems like a hundredth time. "Now you tell me that you felt the same way? _Feel_ the same way?" She put down her cup softly, her voice cracking when she said, "this is too much even for me, Soyeon."

"I shouldn't have said anything," I mumbled quietly, hoping that my words were enough to appease the girl in front of me.

But when she snapped her head towards me, the intensity in her eyes back again, I realized that I said the wrong words again.

"No, you _should_ have," she snapped, her teeth gritting with apparent frustration. "But you should've said it two years ago. You should've said it when it was still less complicated."

The tick tock of the grandfather clock and hushed conversations of the other patrons filled the uncomfortable silence that came over. And while Yuqi continued to stare, eyes gradually losing its intensity second by second, I just sighed tiredly.

"So what now?" I asked, genuinely unsure of where to go from here—because how could you turn back time to the moment that it's still less complicated?

She just shrugged, her expression just as tired as what I'm feeling. "You tell me. Because I have no idea."

"Me neither."

The tick tock of the grandfather clock and hushed conversations of the other patrons filled the awkward silence that came over. I looked around, trying to think, and saw a man in his forties seemingly arguing with the server currently manning the cashier.

Curious, I tilted my body closer to my left and heard words like 'Americano' and 'espresso' before getting startled by a loud snap of fingers.

"Why did you order that?" Yuqi asked while pointing at my mug, her tone now calmer. "You hate coffee."

I shrugged before picking up my cup and taking a sip of my latté—idly noticing how cold it got. "I learned to love it," I explained before taking another sip. "You drink coffee a lot during your exams. I figured I should try it out since, you know, you're so addicted to it."

And when I heard giggling, I looked up and saw amusement painted on her face. "That's lame."

Despite myself, my lips curled up in a small smile. "No, it's sweet." The moment those words came out, I paused, worried. "Sorry," I immediately said before taking another sip.

She just shrugged, seemingly unbothered. "Buy me something sweet instead. I want chocolate cake."

I nodded, admittedly in relief, before saying, "I'll buy you a whole cake if you promise that you won't laugh in your presentation again."

Song Yuqi might be temperamental to a high degree but her ability to forgive and forget is on a much higher degree.

So when she giggled before outright laughing, her eyes crinkled with mirth, I felt my chest simultaneously tightening and loosening—relief and guilt fiercely warring with each other.

"Deal." And with that bright giggle accompanied by a sad smile, I realized that no one has won the battle.

* * *

Song Yu-

"You're getting terrible at flirting." Snapping in attention, I rolled my eyes at an amused Soojin who was observing how a random girl—a very pretty random girl—walked away in confusion when I didn't say what she wanted to hear. "Very disappointing to witness."

Huffing, I turned to my smirking friend. "I'm not interested."

Soojin hummed, her chin propped by one hand; her expression borders on its usual boredom but with a tinge of worry. "Maybe you should date again. Just to get your mind off things."

"Again, not interested," I reiterated before fishing out my phone from my pocket. As I scrolled through my feed, trying hard not to go to a specific profile, I heard a snap of fingers.

"How long was it?" Soojin asked when I looked up. "Since she talked to you, I mean."

I looked down at my phone again, frowning a bit. "Two months, two weeks, and four days," I muttered, mentally counting how long it was since I've seen Yuqi or even talked to her.

Song Yuqi is like a passing storm; a hurricane with strong winds carrying bits and pieces of humanity with her before disappearing completely and leaving devastation in her wake.

"I see."

I just nodded in reply, my thumb now swiping the screen to exit the app before opening a game that I've been playing for a while now. Focusing on numbing my mind with guns and needless acrobatics, I heard another snap of fingers.

"What?" I asked impatiently, not looking up.

"Let's go to that other café downtown."

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. "Why?" I asked, looking up to take a quick peek at my friend.

Soojin, one hand holding her phone, just shrugged. "Change of scenery," she simply said before looking back down at her own phone, thumbs busy typing and presumably chatting with Minnie.

Soojin is always chatting with Minnie: something she kept telling me is necessary for a healthy relationship.

"Unlike you, I actually want to talk to my girlfriend," she once said after my last girlfriend broke up with me because of—in my ex-girlfriend's own words—my 'inability to communicate like a normal person'.

(In hindsight, all my exes had the exact same complaint about me.)

Soojin turned to me, one eyebrow raised in question at my unmoving self. "Well?"

"But you hate change of scenery," I pointed out, refusing to budge from my seat. _And why that place?_ I thought petulantly, almost annoyed at my friend because she's fully aware of what the place meant to me:

It meant seeing Song Yuqi everywhere again.

"I'm allowed to change my mind, Soyeon," she said with an eye roll before standing up and dragging me by my sleeves. "And you know where it is so lead the way."

Outside, the sun is shining brightly and the streets are busy with people going in and out of their business. And walking ahead, I glanced at my back and rolled my eyes at Soojin who was still busy typing away on her phone. "Stop chatting with Minnie-unnie or you'll trip."

"Unlike you with your exes, I love my girlfriend enough to regularly check up on her," she retorted, unknowingly replaying the memory I've rehashed in my head a while ago. "And I can still see you and everything else on my periphery," she lazily added, not even looking up as she expertly evaded a pole in front of her by walking around it.

I huffed and turned around, concentrating on walking ahead, my eyes wandering at the familiar street signs, buildings, and stores.

And after a few more minutes, we're now both standing in front of a familiar café. So I glanced at my back again and saw my friend impatiently looking at me.

"Go inside," she firmly insisted, both hands still stuck on her phone. I rolled my eyes and huffed before opening the door.

I was greeted by the familiar scent and the familiar surroundings: the antique clock on the far corner where Yuqi explained is something that is worth a _lot_ but it's too heavy to steal so it's not worth; the glass shelf against a brick wall that's full of ceramic trinkets that Yuqi once said is something _so_ easy to recreate; and the authentic mahogany counter on the left, which Yuqi said is most likely a product of illegal logging from a developing country.

Everywhere I look, all I see is Yuqi.

"Sit," Soojin commanded softly, pointing at the leather seat—its back facing the cafe's door—where Yuqi usually sit. "And stay there," she warned with a wag of a finger as soon as I settled down.

Then she walked forward and walked a few more. Expecting her to sit on the opposite seat, I furrowed my eyebrows when she bypassed the leather chair and walked a _lot_ more.

"Where are you going?"

And when she wordlessly pointed at the far corner that's a few feet away from where she made me sit, I softly gasped, indignant.

"Soo!" I hissed loudly at her retreating back, watching as she step closer and closer to the booth on the far corner. "Seo Soojin! What the fu-"

"Language." A low voice from my back shushed loudly and I paused, my heart beating loudly against my chest, at the sound of the familiar voice. "Cursing is bad, Soyeon."

My attention fully captured, I waited, unmoving, and saw the familiar figure walk around and sit on the opposite side of me—the one I usually sit on and the one Soojin is supposed to sit on.

I wanted to smile. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of the familiar short hair, the familiar smirk, and the familiar eyes that's crinkled with silent laughter.

But all I said was, "but you curse a lot."

Yuqi shrugged before crossing one leg atop the other. "Because I'm me." And then she put an elbow atop her crossed leg and propped her chin with her open palm, smirking her smirk and looking at me with soft eyes. "Miss me?"

I wanted to roll my eyes and tell her that I don't miss her. I wanted to quip—maybe tell her that I miss myself more—but seeing the familiar face that I kept dreaming about and hearing the familiar voice that I kept replaying in my head over and over again, I realized that yes, I _do_ miss her.

I do miss her a lot.

But instead, I just asked, "is this a set-up?"

And then she laughed, one hand idly playing with her phone. "Yes." And when I squinted my eyes at her and to my traitor of a friend at the far corner of the café, she just laughed even harder.

"Don't look at me like that," she playfully admonished with a pointed finger when her laughter finally died down. "I was just making sure."

"Making sure of what?"

"That you won't run away and disappear on me again," she said, her eyes soft and her voice even softer.

Song Yuqi is like a passing storm: wreaking havoc on one go before calmly moving on, unbothered by the resulting damage.

But, ironically, I am just as much of a storm in her life: I came crashing towards her quiet, organized, _perfect_ life—with my supposed charm and supposed wit—before calmly leaving and not looking back to assess the damages and ruins.

And the broken hearts.

"You're the one who disappeared," I pointed out with a mumble, one hand anxiously picking out at the loose fabric of my pants.

"I had to think," she deadpanned, expecting me to understand—and I do. "And I want to get back at you."

At that I chuckled. "It's only been two months, you know."

She rolled her eyes. "Apparently I'm still normal. Unlike you." She straightened up and slid a tray—that I didn't even notice—towards me. "Here."

After thanking her for the mug of hot chocolate—absentmindedly wondering how she remembered—and taking a satisfied sip, I glanced at her and saw how she's still staring at me.

"Are you serious about what you said?" she asked as soon as I put the mug down.

"I say a lot of things," I replied distractedly, my eyes wandering towards the far corner of the café and saw my friend looking our way.

"You said you love me," she clarified as she slumped her back against the leather chair. "Are you sure about that?"

 _Am I_? I mused as I took another sip of my hot chocolate, already knowing the answer.

"I am," I mumbled with a small nod after putting down my mug, one hand started playing with a tissue beside it.

The tick tock of the grandfather clock and hushed conversations of the other patrons filled the silence that came over, with Yuqi still staring at me with an inscrutable expression. And after a few more seconds, she hummed before reaching out for her usual cup.

"I broke up with him."

I snapped my head up and looked at her, wide-eyed and shocked. "Why?" I asked, panic palpable in my voice.

Did I break them up?

She waved an unconcerned hand. "Don't worry. It's not because of you," she assured, correctly interpreting my obvious distress. "I've been meaning to break up with him for awhile now. I just didn't have the time."

"Or the motivation," she added in an audible murmur before putting down the cup. "It's going to happen with or without you in the picture so don't overthink."

The tick tock of the grandfather clock and hushed conversations of the other patrons filled the silence that came over. I kept playing with the tissue, the gears in my mind turning. "So…"

" _So_ I'll ask again," she finished, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. "Are you sure, Soyeon? Do you really love me?"

I'm sure. And I do.

I just nodded to both questions, my eyes wandering again to the far corner of the café and seeing my friend looking our way, her own eyebrow raised as well.

"Good. So do you want to be my girlfriend now?" Yuqi suddenly asked, her tone both demanding and expectant.

I chuckled nervously, the tissue in my hand now crumpled and slightly torn. "Don't you think it's too fast? You just got out of a relationship."

And with that, she smiled a sad smile. "I've been waiting for you for two years, Soyeon," she said softly. "This is not an impulsive decision for me."

My eyes wandered again to the far corner of the café and saw Soojin—my dear friend—looking our way, her face oddly encouraging and her hand raised in a thumbs up.

"Okay," I said, nodding both at the girl in front of me and the girl at the far corner of the café. "I'll be your girlfriend.

And Yuqi smiled brightly, her eyes crinkled with happiness, contentment, and relief. She opened her mouth, about to say something, when she paused and looked at the buzzing phone that's still in her hand.

"Wait a second. I'll just reply to Soojin." And I laughed at that as I watched my now girlfriend quickly typing a reply on her phone while, at the far corner of the café, I watched my friend look down at her own phone with a smile.

* * *

I've always thought that I've never been in love because love, for me, was something fantastical. It was a concept so alien and, admittedly, so frustrating that it became something of an impossibility to me.

"I love you."

But when I look at her, the girl I've unknowingly pitted against all the other girls who came and went into my life, I've realized that it's not that I've never been in love.

It's just that, unknowingly, I've been in love all this time and no other girl can ever measure up to the one who actually holds my heart.

"I love you, too."

And she smiled at my words, her face lighting up the room like the sun greeting the world with its light. She then came closer, cupping my cheek with one hand before kissing me gently on my lips.

And the moment her lips touched mine, it felt like every impossibility started making sense in my head.

"We're in public, you know," I heard Soojin grumble loudly in front of me. "Have some shame."

"Don't be a prude, Soojin. Yuqi deserves to be lovey dovey because Soyeon finally grew a brain."

"Babe! Don't be like that. Soyeon-unnie _is_ smart."

"Smart, yes. But also not smart. I think I'm with Miyeon on this one."

"Thank you, Minnie. You're a good friend."

And the moment we parted, I rolled my eyes at the four girls sitting around us but didn't offer any rebuttal at their comments—because, I may not admit it out loud, most of their comments are on point.

They're my friends, after all.

"Don't you have a honeymoon to go to?" I sarcastically asked instead, addressing the couple in my right. "Or did that already happen?" I asked again, genuinely curious this time.

Miyeon, whose left arm is encircled around her fiancée's shoulder, gasped indignantly before frowning. "You really don't pay attention," she said instead, grumbling under her breath about my horrible attention span before reaching out for a glass of water.

"It's after the wedding, Soyeon-unnie," Shuhua answered in lieu of her petulant fiancée, one hand moving towards the older girl's knee and squeezing. "And the wedding is in a week, by the way."

"Make sure she comes," Soojin interjected, her eyes on an amused Yuqi. "Both of you," she added sternly, her otherwise soft eyes flitting between me and my girlfriend.

"It's okay. They'll both come," Minnie interjected with a pacifying smile, one hand reaching out to caress her girlfriend's cheek with her thumb before turning her smile towards us. "Right?"

And when both Yuqi and I nodded while assuring that we'll both come, Soojin just nodded back, still suspicious—mostly at me—but nevertheless satisfied with both our answers.

And when that conversation is over and done, Miyeon—who promised to treat us all with dinner—called the attention of the nearby waiter so we can finally order.

The restaurant—the one where Miyeon proposed to Shuhua—is full of patrons tonight. And with the six of us, the servers are in a hurry to place each order on our table, respectfully bowing each time before hurrying along to serve the other patrons.

While my eyes wander around, always watching but never seeing, I felt a soft hand enclosing my smaller one. Now familiar with the touch, I looked up to my girlfriend and smiled, my heart happy although my mind is still on the clouds—always thinking and always wandering.

So what really is love?

Love isn't just a story you write: It is as tangible as a tight embrace that will hold you close, enveloping you in warmth that will make you feel so safe and so loved.

Love isn't just a song you sing: It is as sweet as a lullaby that will caress you to sleep while soothing you with whispers of comfort during distressing times; with confident, reassuring words of the future still untold.

Love isn't just a picture you draw: It is as beautiful as the prettiest of smiles, mesmerizing you with every curl, every line, and every frown. It will open your eyes to a whole new world full of possibilities, letting you experience varying emotions that will make you feel so alive.

So what is love for me, you ask? For me, it's just a name:

Song Yuqi.

* * *

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** I wrote this as a distraction for my real life stuff but it took a _ridiculous_ amount of time for me to finish this oneshot, lmao.


End file.
